The path was wide and nicely kept, but it had been purposely rendered tortuous, and, though often approaching to the verge of the woods where they joined the wide, open deer-park, it still remained beneath the shelter of the trees, which prevented any one from seeing along it for more than twenty or thirty yards in advance; occasionally indeed, in spots where the trees were thinner, one could catch a glimpse of the onward course of the path at some distance; but it was only momentary, and everything had been done which the art of gardening could do, to give a sort of mysterious and lonely effect to the green light and shade which poured in upon it. As Charles Tyrrell walked along, and when he had reached a spot about half way between his own dwelling and the manor-house, he thought he heard some one speaking, and, raising his eyes, saw through the boles of the trees at some distance before him one or two figures, he could not well distinguish which, coming rapidly along as if towards him. They were hidden in a moment by the other trees, and Charles, advancing more rapidly with some degree of curiosity--excited! why or by what he could not tell--plainly distinguished the voice of Lucy Effingham before he had proceeded twenty yards farther, saying in a loud and angry tone, "I insist upon your leaving me directly, sir. I am not now unprotected, and, depend upon it, you shall have cause to regret such conduct." Charles quickened his pace; his heart beat high, and the next moment Lucy stood before him at the distance of about twenty yards. She was followed close by a very handsome young man, dressed in the garb of a sailor; and the moment that she beheld Charles Tyrrell, she darted forward like lightning, with a cry of delight, and clung to his arm. Charles gently withdrew it from her, saying, "Wait one moment; don't be alarmed;" and, leaning against a tree for support, she saw him advance to the person who had been following her, speak a few words to him in an under voice, and then, at one blow, knock him headlong down upon the ground. She now screamed violently in order to bring assistance; but Charles suffered the other to rise, and the next moment, without anything farther taking place, except some low spoken words, which she did not hear, they separated. Charles Tyrrell then immediately came up to her, and though his face was a good deal flushed and his eyes still flashing, he applied himself gently and tenderly to sooth her. When she was a little calmed, he said, "How can I apologize to you, Miss Effingham, for the manner in which I have been obliged to treat a person in your presence, who, perhaps, may at one time have been dear to you?" "To me, Mr. Tyrrell!" exclaimed Lucy, with unfeigned astonishment in every feature. "To me! Good God, what could make you dream of such a thing? I hate and abhor him, and have always done so." "He told me his name was Hargrave!" exclaimed Charles, in equal surprise.